


Tall Man Secrets

by Targa365



Category: Fall Out Boy, Green Day, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Paramore, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Bisexual Dallon Weekes, Bullying, Gay Brendon Urie, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Spencer is a Kid, brallon, dallon is a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21662644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Targa365/pseuds/Targa365
Summary: Brendon Urie and Dallon Weekes have been talking for a long time, so when Brendon is invited to Dallon's home, there is no way he will decline the offer. However, Dallon has a little secret...
Relationships: Brendon Urie/Dallon Weekes, implied Mikey Way/Patrick Stump
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	1. 1

Brendon met Dallon by accident, on a cold Autumn morning, on his way to work. He had been running late so decided to take the shortcut through the fields rather than the longer, road-paved route. There wasn't anything particularly special about the journey, besides the cold bite of air, and crunching leaves beneath his fast moving feet.

His phone vibrated in his rucksack, and he kept walking as he fumbled with the zips to get the device out. It was that moment he met Dallon. Actually, it was that moment he ran into Dallon. Quite literally. As soon as he felt his body collide with the taller man, he fell back in shock.

"I am so sorry!" The other man exclaimed, reaching his hand down to Brendon in an attempt to get him up, but Brendon jumped up quickly, knocking the offered hand out of his way.

"It's my fault, I wasn't looking. Sorry." He laughed awkwardly, and for the first time looked up at the guy he ran into. He was tall, but looked soft. He had a young face, freshly shaved and wide blue eyes. His hair also looked soft, and swept across his forehead as his woolen hat pushed it down. He dressed like an old man with a knitted jumper, dark blue (slightly skinny) jeans, brown boots and thick framed glasses. He looked like a hipster. Brendon laughed a little but stopped when he saw the man frown a little.

"Okay. Well I best be going." The other man wiped his hands awkwardly on his jeans, and it was then Brendon saw the plastic bottle on its side, orange juice surrounding the entrance, and the other man seemed to be holding the lid.

"Oh damn, man, I didn't know I spilled your drink. Here let me pay for another one." Brendon began pulling loose change from his pocket, but the man stopped his with a wave.

"It's okay, seriously, I was nearly done." That was a lie. A lot of orange juice was sprawled across the dirty ground.

"Please. It's my fault you didn't get to finish it."

"Seriously, thanks, but I'm good."

"But please -"

"If you're so insistent, why don't you just give me you're number, then you can by me a drink the next time we meet." Damn, this guy was smooth.

"Yeah. Um, yeah. Sure. I'm Brendon."

"Dallon."

They exchanged numbers quickly, and smiled as they walked away from each other in the opposite directions.

Brendon didn't make it to work on time, and got the whole 'I'm not angry, just disappointed' look from his boss. And although he felt guilty, it was totally worth it.


	2. 2

Meeting up with Dallon became regular after that. Dallon never met with Brendon in the morning or after three in the afternoon. Brendon guessed it was because of work.

They've met up a total of eight times in three months. They knew a lot about each other. Dallon works at a clothing shop in the town square. He doesn't drink tea or coffee, but is a sucker for hot chocolate, and surprisingly likes coffee cake. He lives twenty minutes out of town (but Brendon has never seen his house), and has been living in the same area his whole life.  
Dallon also knows a lot about Brendon. Like how he is currently training as a music teacher in a primary school in town. He will drink just about anything, and eat just about anything. He is outgoing too, striking up conversation about almost anything.

They're happy; occasionally meeting up and talking about work. But Brendon wants more. He wants to know more about Dallon. What's the real reason he won't meet up at certain times? Does he want to come to Brendon's house? Are they even dating?

It's that moment, as he's walking to the staff room with Mr Stump, his phone buzzes. He waits until he finds his lunch and is sat down, before he reads the message. He smiles when he sees it's from Dallon. A simple "hello." But just as Brendon goes to text back, another message comes through; "I kinda need to talk to you."  
As soon as Brendon reads it, his throat starts to close up. "When?" He texts back hastily.

"In person. Come to my place later?"

Oh god.

Brendon texts a quick "Ok" and asks for the address. He put his phone in his pocket just as he sees Mr Stump (Patrick) approaching him, a glass of water in his hand.

"Those kids," he starts as he sits down, "they're great, but god, so tiring."

Brendon chuckles a little, but agrees. The kids were exhausting today, but even the stress of thirty children screaming, whilst learning about different percussion instruments, isn't enough to calm the nerves of the text Dallon had sent him.

"Is everything alright Brendon. I know the kids were a handful today, but they weren't that bad. Right?" When Brendon looks up at Patrick, he can see the worry in his eyes. He knows that Patrick had trained two other wannabe music teachers in the past, and both of them went on to pursue other careers, by quitting withing the first few weeks. One now works behind a till in a supermarket that isn't doing so well for itself. Brendon doesn't want Patrick to feel as though he is such a bad teacher, that people feel the need to stay clear of any hopes of becoming one themselves. Patrick doesn't deserve another trainee walking away from him like that.

"No, I'm okay." He gave a quick smile but when he sees Mr Stump frown, he knew it wasn't as reassuring as it was supposed to be.

"Brendon. You are amazing at what you do. Please don't let one rowdy class stop you from doing this."

"I won't. I promise. It's not the class."

"Okay. But talk to me if you have any concerns, or...r-regrets." This time it's Patrick's smile that faltered slightly. Instead of replying, Brendon just nods, because he can see other staff members fill the staff room, like Mr Armstrong (the headteacher) and Mr Hurley (the crazy strong PE teacher). He makes a promise to himself that he will have a chat with Patrick it later, but as more people enter the box of a room, he thinks it can wait.

.......

When later does arrive, he and Mr Stump have a free period. Usually they spend this time tidying away or re-organising the mass number of boxes, filled to the brim with tambourines, drum sticks, maracas, whistles and even ukuleles. But this time Patrick is showing Brendon how to properly mark test papers. It's admittedly very boring, and time consuming, especially since a kids answer could be deemed 'correct', but isn't on the mark scheme given; therefore, unfairly incorrect. 

They murmur quietly to each other until Patrick looks up.

"So, are you going to tell me what's up?" Brendon hates the fact that he hasn't known Patrick for long, but he can already see the insecurity behind the tired eyes of the older man.

"I assure you Patrick, it's not the job."

"You promise that?"

"Of course. Something just came up, and I'm overthinking it. I shouldn't let it get in the way of my work. I'm sorry." When Brendon looks at Patrick once again, he can see the guilt settled on his face. It makes him feel bad.

"No, Brendon I'm sorry. I'm the one overthinking everything, and, ugh, I always assume the worst." Instead of a reply they Brendon nods, mirroring his actions from the staff room, only this time it feels like the tension has been cut. 

They carry on marking until the bell goes for the end of the day. With a quick wave goodbye to Patrick, Brendon hurries home. 

He really hopes going to Dallon's place will end the day on a positive note, rather than the impending doom he's expecting.


	3. 3

Brendon felt anxious as he turned on the engine of his tired Vauxhall Astra. Realistically, he knew he probably didn't have to worry about anything. Dallon just wanted to talk. That was it. He could want to talk about anything. But he also gave Brendon his address. That was the but that puzzled the younger man, because he had never ever been to his house. Or anywhere near it.

The drive was quick, especially considering there was still rush hour traffic.

Brendon pulls up on Dallon's drive, and quickly checks the address on his phone. Dallon's house isn't as big as he thought it would be. It isn't as attractive either. It looks like every other house on the street; brown front door, windows with brown frames, three perfect windows at the top, two more big windows next to the door. The front drive is one side brick, other side coloured gravel. On the right of the house is a gate, and a thick, sturdy fence follows it round the garden Brendon cannot see. It's neat. It's clean. But not as fancy as Brendon had visualised.

He ignored the slight shake in his legs, as he got out of his car. He locked it quickly, eyes never leaving Dallon's front door. They didn't even leave when he walked towards the door. Or when he knocked. For a minute he wasn't sure if he even did knock on the front door, but suddenly, through the foggy glass, he saw movement. 

In a moment, he was face-to-face with the taller man, who was smiling broadly with bright wrinkled eyes.

"Brendon, hey, come on in." He held the door open as the younger man walked through. The house screamed 'Dallon'; decorated in cream colours and soft grey tones. The wall had small wooden picture frames, filled with a mix of of newspaper articles and dried flowers, whilst others had actual photos, but Brendon didn't pay attention to those much. In the hall, to his right, was a beautiful staircase, with a soft carpet, and to his left, what seemed to be the living room, and straight ahead was the kitchen. 

He followed Dallon into the living room which was covered in a soft, light brown carpet, and red oval rug. The couches where also red and had white cushions sitting comfortably upon them. The TV was a reasonable size, and everything looked perfect...apart from the big plastic box filled with...toy cars?

"I wanted to talk to you." Dallon said, snapping Brendon back to reality.

"I didn't want you to worry, but I didn't know how else to word it." He continued, and Brendon nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

Dallon motioned to the couches; "have a seat."

Brendon sat down and immediately melted into the warmth and softness of the cushions.

"I guess I told you to come here because I have something to show you. And this is kind of a massive deal for me. I get it if you don't exactly understand, or, uh, want to be with me for much longer...but uh..."

"What's going on?" Panic settled in the pit of Brendon's stomach. "You're really worrying me. Are you sick? Please tell me you're not sick, you look so well."

"I'm not Bren, seriously. Just wait a minute and you'll see."

Waiting in a living room anxiously wasn't what Brendon had in mind when Dallon said 'talk'. Dallon himself looks excited, but Brendon doesn't feel the same way in the slightest, in fact, his legs are shaking with nerves, and he keeps rubbing his hands together as though it's cold. But it's not. And time is ticking. Slowly. Why can't this go faster?  
Suddenly, the door handle moved, and Brendon flinched as a million scenarios flew through his head all at once. Dallon's smile was wider, and Brendon could't help but feel he was being introduced to a boyfriend or a girlfriend, and that he and Dallon were just talking as friends, and he got it all wrong and...oh goodness...the door is opening! What is even happening anymore. Brendon should just go home, he has a really busy day tomorrow.

A figure walks through the door before he can close his eyes and hold his breath and...

It's a boy.

No. Really.

A child.


	4. 4

"Daddy! Daddy, look what I made in school!" The little boy, clueless to Brendon's presence, runs over to his father, holding what looks to be a toilet paper tube with a face and paper wings.

"That's beautiful."

"It's an angel. Look!" Brendon watches in awe as the young boy points at the paper wings coloured with red and blue crayon scribbles. Fuzzy yellow pipe cleaner acts as arms and the face seems to be drawn onto the cardboard tube with pink and green coloured pencils. The ends are cut haphazardly, as though made into a dress. It's cute. The boy is also pretty cute, but he doesn't have many of Dallon's features. Brendon could see his bright blue eyes, and tiny smile of pride, both of which he must've inherited from his father.

"It looks beautiful Spencer. Where are you gonna put it?" His tone is gentle and calm, and although it usually is, this felt different.

"Can I put it, um, uh, on the dinner table?" He looks up at Dallon with wide eyes and his lips pout out, making him look impossibly young.

"Of course." The boy runs away into the dining room, the angel gripped tightly in his hand. Suddenly Brendon doesn't feel nervous anymore. This isn't as bad as he thought it would be.

"So." Dallon begins, uneasy. "That's Spencer. He turned seven in September. He's kinda the reason I needed to talk to you." His face is lined with uncertainty, like he thought Brendon would be mad. But he's not. In fact, he feels excited.

"Wow. You have a kid Dal." And Dallon nods because that much is obvious.

"I wanted to tell you because we've been talking for a few months, and I don't want to keep him a secret. It's not fair on him or me or you. If this is relationship between us is serious, you have the right to know."

Brendon nods, and his head turns to the small boy walking into the room. His eyes lock with Brendon's for a brief moment, before he hides behind his dads legs.

"Spencer this is Brendon. Do you want to say hi?"

Brendon saw the slight shake of his head from behind Dallon. He decided to crouch down, making himself the same height as the small boy.

"I'm Brendon. That angel you made looked really good. I bet you had help."

"No!" The boy almost shouted. "I did it all by myself. I even used the scissors all on my own. I didn't even hurt myself, look!" Spencer shifted away from behind Dallon's legs to show Brendon his tiny hands, which were actually pretty clean despite the slight speckle of red glitter and dried glue.

"That's amazing! You're pretty much already an artist."

The boy nods, his light brown hair falling into his face slightly.

"But that's not what I want to be when I grow up." Spencer walked closer to Brendon as though telling him a secret.

"Oh yeah? What do you want to be?"

"I wanna be in a music band."

"A music band? That's so cool! What instrument would you play?"

"All of them!"

Dallon chuckled, greatly enjoying the sight of his son and Brendon getting along. Brendon seemed to have this way with children. A way of talking to them naturally. Although he knew the younger man was training to be a teacher, there must be more to it than that.

"Go wash your hands Spin, dinner will be ready soon. Bren, do you want to stay for dinner?"

"Of course. I would love to."

Dinner turned out to be chicken nuggets, chips and salad. Dallon kept apologising, as he hadn't been shopping yet, and Spencer was fussy. 

Spencer's angel was a cute little ornament in the middle of the table, even though Brendon could only see the back of it from where he was sat. Dallon had already put the date in small neat handwriting, at the bottom of it. The dining area of Dallon's house was messy unlike the entrance. It was joined to the kitchen, and he could see the mass amount of drawings on the fridge as well as certificates; one reading "Best at sitting quietly." He laughed a little, remembering those types of awards he got when he was a kid, although his were more along the lines of "Most Enthusiastic."

After dinner, Spencer had ran upstairs, and Brendon helped Dallon rinse and put the dishes in the dish washer. 

"Thanks." Dallon said after a comfortable silence. "I know you might be freaking out, but he really likes you already. You're good with kids.

Brendon shrugs. "It's really nothing. He's sweet."

"Only when he's had ten hours of decent sleep and a good day at school." Brendon looks up.

"He doesn't like school?" Dallon sighed heavily.

"It's not easy for him. He struggles with the whole making friends part. Probably because most the kids in that school are assholes."

"How do you mean?"

"They all mostly come from richer backgrounds. Apparently wearing the same pair of trainers the whole week is shameful, enough, in fact, to get a letter home regarding our 'financial situation'. But he ignores it instead of getting upset. He's made friends with a quiet boy in the year above him, Ryan. He only lives down the street, he's a good kid. But Ryan won't be at that school forever, and I don't want Spencer spending his last year alone."

A moment of silence washes over the pair, as Brendon watches Dallon pull out a tub of ice cream from the freezer.

"So what does this make us?" He suddenly hears himself say, his mouth working without the permission of his brain.

"Well, I would like you to be my boyfriend. So I can take you on real dates and gloat to all my friends." Brendon laughs at that.

"Okay. I would like that too."

After eating too much ice cream, Dallon announces bedtime to Spencer. Brendon giggles as he hears the seven year old start to protest loudly.

"I should probably get going." He stands up, and Dallon follows him to the door.

"I'll see you soon?"

"Of course." It's that moment Spencer launches towards him, and nearly knocks him out with a forceful hug.

"Thank you for liking my angel." He mumbles, before running back up the stairs.

"He'll be happy to see you again soon too." Dallon leans down for a kiss, before waving goodbye and shutting the door.

Brendon grins all the way home.


	5. 5

Going into work the next day and squealing at the sight of Patrick Stump, isn't Brendon's manliest moment, nor his most mature, but nonetheless that's what he does anyway.

Patrick is sitting behind his desk, sipping his tea from a flask when Brendon enters the room, wide smile on his face, eyes crinkled at the edges. 

"I take it last night went well." Patrick says, as Brendon hangs his coat on the peg behind the door, and takes a seat on the table near the older man. 

"He has a kid!" Brendon screeches in a rush, sounding more like a crow than a man.

Patrick rolls his eyes, smile slowly appearing on his face. "That a good thing?"

"Patrick, the kid is seven. He wants to be in a band, and made an angel at school. He's so small and sweet and just like Dallon!"

"Well I'm glad everything was okay in the end Bren." Patrick smiles, but sighs as he puts down his flask, and gazes out the window, towards all the kids and parents arriving in the playground.

"Is everything okay with you?" Brendon looks at Patrick closely. He watches as Mr Stump shrugs sadly.

"A friend and flatmate of mine is ill. He was doing alright, but last night he was admitted to hospital. If he is released, he'll need someone to take care of him. At least until he gets better or I organise a nurse to come over or something. It's just stressful."

"Oh I'm sorry Patrick." Brendon truly was. Patrick speaks of his roommate frequently. They've been flatmates since university, and have moved places together a few times. They both went into teaching but of course it didn't last. Patrick's friend got too ill to remain at the school he was training at, and started working from home, creating teaching tools for the school to use such as presentations and activities. Brendon doesn't know the name of Patrick's friend, but what he does know, is that he and Patrick are as close as brothers.

"Listen, if I can't come in for the rest of the week, Billie said that you can teach the kids."

Hold on.

"Teach?!" Brendon's voice cracks like a fourteen year old's would, but he doesn't have time to be embarrassed before Patrick is speaking again.

"Yeah. You've done a lot of training, and the kids love you. I'll just give you the list of private music lessons, as well as class taught lessons. You're a natural."

"Patrick, I really don't think - "

"Brendon. Listen. I really don't think I'll be here tomorrow. Or the rest of the week. Maybe not even next week. But you can do this. This is what you trained for."

He can't really argue with that logic. He takes a deep breath and thinks about why he is really doing this. Why he would really agree to this. It's only for the rest of the week; Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. It may even be for a little bit longer. But it's only until Patrick has sorted some sort plan and care put in place for his friend. It would be selfish of him to say no to such an amazing opportunity, especially one that would benefit Patrick as well as his future career in teaching. 

"Okay Patrick. I'll do it." Patrick beams and suddenly Brendon feel overwhelmingly happy.

Suddenly the bell rings and Patrick is out of his seat, ready to gather the kids form outside. Brendon takes his usual place at the back of the classroom, waiting for the handful of students who have music lessons first thing in the morning.

Tuesday mornings are filled with cello players for thirty minutes. Then that leaves both Patrick and Brendon with twenty five minutes of lesson planning, before an actual class of kids come in to learn about how to put music together (or whatever it is they are doing; most weeks it varies), before break time. Then they have a free lesson to mark, plan or lounge around before guitar lessons start, then it's lunch. After that they have two more actual classes before they finish for the day. Tuesday's are usually pretty relaxed.

Although they are only between the ages of eight and eleven, the cello kids are actually pretty good at following what Patrick does. They are also all very shy, so none of them ask for help when they get stuck. Brendon spends most of his time adjusting the height of the instruments, and correcting finger placements. It doesn't stop them from being brilliant.

They rest of the day flows by fast. Throughout the day, Brendon can see Patrick's mood improve, but he also knows Patrick would never let his personal life affect his teaching ability. He always does his best for his students, because when at school, they are his priority. Brendon makes a mental note of this.

At the end of the day, Patrick hands Brendon a bunch of notes to keep in mind. Although Brendon has been there for weeks already, it doesn't help to have more notes and reminders. Brendon wishes him the best, and really hopes that the famous flatmate is alright.

On his way home Brendon calls Dallon to tell him the good (and ultimately the bad) news, about this teaching opportunity. Dallon is obviously happy for him, but also expresses his sympathy for Patrick's friend. Even though he only knows of Patrick through Brendon, his sincere concerns are very real.

Brendon feels very excited for the future of this week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure who Patrick's flatmate/roommate should be. Andy and Ryan are already excluded as they are part of the story. Pete or Joe would be an obvious choice but I'm happy for other suggestions if you have any.


	6. 6

Dallon said goodbye to Bren after wishing him good luck for tomorrow. He slipped his phone into his pocket as he reached his own front door. As he walked in, he sighed, noticing the piles of multiple shirts, trousers and odd socks littering the stairs. This morning, Spencer had thrown a tantrum, deciding that he wanted to wear his pyjamas for school. Dallon of course, had refused, pulling out different outfits for his son to wear. Spencer screamed and threw all the clothes laid on his bed, down the stairs. After a little bit of yelling, Spencer ended up going to school in the same clothes he wore the previous day.

Dallon had worried as soon as he left the house. He didn't want the other parents to think he was lazy or he did not care. He certainly doesn't want for Spencer to get harassed by the other kids at that school. The poor boy only has one friend, and he doesn't have all the confidence in the world. 

He walks up the stairs, picking up the items of clothing on the way. He neatly folds them, and places them carefully in the proper drawers in Spencer's bedroom. He sighs again when he notices the mess of his son's room; it's mostly toy cars littering the floor and of course mountains of Lego bricks, resembling a town of sorts. He can't help but smile at his son's creativity, and the ability to design a world of his own.

The door opens downstairs, and Dallon knows that Spencer is back. He rushed down the stairs to greet the boy but stops in his tracks when he notices his boy is shaking slightly. He frowns even more when he sees Spencer hiccup and let out a small cry.

"Spencer! What's wrong?" He asks as he engulfs the small boy in a hug.

"Th-th-they said mean things to me," he cries. "They s-s-said nobody likes me b-b-because I'm f-f-fat."

Dallon's frowns as the boy sobs, and hold him tighter. Spencer isn't fat. He's a little chubby, sure, but that's only puppy fat. It'll disappear when he gets older.

"You're not fat, believe me," Dallon said softly rubbing Spencer's back. "And unless you are really lazy and eat nothing but fatty foods, then you'll never be fat, okay?" He felt the boy nod.

"Do you want me to talk to your teacher?" 

Spencer shook his head.

"Why not?"

"She laughed at me. W-w-when they all called be fat."

Dallon stopped. What the hell is wrong with that school?!

"Do you want me to ask Ryan's dad if Ryan can come over for dinner?"

Spencer sniffled and nodded.

"Okay, go put your bag in the kitchen and get changed, I'll ring Ryan's dad."

Dallon shook his head as his small son walked away. He really couldn't believe that school. No kid should feel ashamed of their body at age seven, or any age really. Hopefully, as he dialed Mr Ross's number, Ryan would be able to cheer Spencer up. Dallon is glad Spencer has a friend like Ryan.

"Hi Mr Ross, it's Dallon, I was just wondering if Ryan wanted to come over for dinner?" Dallon asks politely. Mr Ross isn't always a patient man.

"He'll be down in a few minutes." Ryan's father mumbles and abruptly hangs up. Dallon frowns for probably the twentieth time that day, and lightly rubs his forehead, feeling the wrinkles that weren't there yesterday.

Sure enough, a few minutes later there's a light, timid knock at the door, and Dallon lets Ryan in, watching as the skinny boy runs straight up the stairs. He doesn't mind.

About forty-five minutes later, Dallon is sat at the table with two boys chatting loudly whilst stuffing their faces with pizza. 

He leaves out the wet wipes for both boys to clean their faces with, whilst he cleans up the mess on the table. 

He hears the boys run upstairs, and decides to quickly call Brendon again.

"Hey Dallon," the voice on the other end says.

"Hey. I know you already called but.."

"It's fine. I don't mind. How is everything?"

"Spencer came home upset," Dallon says quickly. He hadn't meant to unload his worries onto Brendon so quickly, especially since the younger man was already worrying about work, and he had only really just met Spencer.

"Oh no, is he okay?"

"Some stupid kid called him fat, and the teacher laughed." Dallon would later deny the hurt in his voice and tear in his eye.

"Oh Dallon..." 

"He's a kid. He doesn't need to go through school like that."

"Hey, it's alright. Can you report it?"

Dallon sniffed. "I don't know. The school is weird. Who are they gonna believe? The teacher and a snotty nosed brat or me?" 

Admittedly, Dallon was never good at sticking up for himself. He remembers getting kicked in the stomach when he was twelve, but he'd been too scared to do anything about it. He never told his parents, his siblings, teacher or closest friends. He let some kid steal his money and kick him down. It went on for months until somebody else saw it, and quickly put it to a stop.

"Hey, how about you record each time it happens, write it down. And then go to the head teacher?"

"Yeah, yeah I should try that. Thank you." Dallon smiled a little.

"Is he okay now?"

"Yeah, he has a friend round, and they're upstairs playing."

Dallon walks around the house, straightening things out with the phone still against his ear. 

"I'll let you go, I've gotta drop Ryan home."

"Okay. Bye Dallon." 

"Bye Bren. Thank you."

After hanging up, Dallon calls for the boys, and walks Ryan back to his house because it's dark.

When he get home again in five minutes time, he gets Spencer ready for bed.

"So, you promise to tell me whenever somebody says something that makes you upset," Dallon says to Spencer as he tucks him in, rather than ask.

"Yep. I promise." 

"Even if it's an adult?"

"I promise dad. Love you." Spencer hugs Dallon around the neck, and settles into his bed.

"Love you too." He turns off the bedroom light, and shuts the door slightly, but leaves the light on in the hall. Spencer is afraid of the dark.


	7. 7

Brendon already has a headache, and it's only the second lesson of the day. He's currently teaching a whole class, who are supposed to be revising for a test they have later on, however, two of the naughtiest kids in the class, have decided to have a 'who can talk the fastest' competition, each getting faster and louder than the other. A group of girls are arguing on one of the tables, but Brendon has no clue about what. On another table, the quiet kids are mostly working happily, but Brendon can hear them swearing, and then giggling; they aren't as quiet as they initially let on. 

"Guys," he tries, but the noise gets louder. "Guys, listen up."

He grabs a whiteboard pen and writes 'five minutes off break' in big capitalized writing. He then starts to write down names; Jack and Alex (screaming match kids), Rebecca, Ash, Amy Lee and Gwen (the gossiping girls), Danny, Andy, Jake, Justin and Nick (quiet swearing squad), until eventually he hears the noise die down into silence. He smirks as he turns around.

"Do I have your attention now?" He asks, sickly sweet. Unhappy murmurs fill the space, and Brendon smiles.

"I know Mr Stump isn't here, but that doesn't mean you can stray away from your normal lessons. Later on, you'll be back here taking a test which helps us to see where abouts you are at academically. It's important. I have given you this lesson to go over your notes and revise. Don't waste it. The noise level is far to high. You can test each other, but I don't want to hear you talking about something that is not to do with the upcoming test. Got it? Good." He turns to his computer proudly, happy that they have finally settled. It seems stupid, but he feels as though he has achieved something, and he can't wait to tell Dallon later.

Not so long later, the bell rings for lunch, and Brendon lets out the kids whose names are not written on the board.

"It's not fair," whines Gwen, as she makes a show of herself after being told to sit back in her seat.

"I'll only keep you in for two minutes."

"But the board says five," points out Alex, as though Brendon Urie is stupid and cannot read his own writing.

"I know, but you all quietened down, so I've taken three minutes off."

Thirty seconds passes before one of the kids speaks up again.

"Where is Mr Stump?" It's Justin, who is usually the quietest.

"His friend is a bit poorly, but he'll be back soon."

"How long is that going to be?" That's Nick.

"I don't know. Hopefully not too long."

"Why don't we have a supply?" Andy, seriously, it's taking all of Brendon's strength not to shout something rude to them, but they are nine years old, and he will probably lose his job.

"I'm your teacher for now."

"Mr Urie why-"

"TWO MINUTES IS UP, YOU CAN PLAY OUTSIDE NOW!" He practically yells, cutting Danny off abruptly. The kids all run through the door, chattering loudly, and Brendon can hear their voices fade into the corridors.

Brendon grabs his own snack and makes his way to the staff room. He sits next to Andy Hurley who gives him a smile.

"How's Patrick?" Asks Brendon. Patrick and Andy have been friends since teenagers, and Brendon knows that Andy knows Patrick's roommate. 

"As well as he can be I suppose. It's not the first time Mikey has given us a scare, but he's gonna need twenty four hour care for a little while."

"Mikey?" Brendon has heard the name before, but he can't place where from.

"Mikey Way. Lives with Patrick. Pretty tall and skinny," Andy gestures with his hands, most likely trying to show how tall this Mikey dude is.

"I've heard the name from somewhere," Brendon shakes his head.

"He's Gerard Way's younger brother. You know, the comic book artist? He gave the school hundreds of free copies, the kids love them." The name still doesn't ring a bell, but Brendon is quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Mr Armstrong claps his hands.

"Alright, before breaks over, I just want to say, that we'll be having an opening evening at the school next Friday, for kids in the local area who want to move school. We are the smallest school for miles around, and due to an increase in staff, we can manage about sixty more pupils. Your job is to create appealing activities for the kids to participate in, as well as prepping yourselves for any questions parents will have. Remember, they will want to see all subjects in this school, as that's what their child will be doing. Make it interesting and fun, and encourage people you know to come along."

The bell rings, startling the staff, and Brendon can hear everyone groan.

"Before you go, I need a couple of volunteers to advertise the opening evening," Billie Joe looks eagerly around the room, before catching Brendon's eyes.

"Mr Urie, it'll be great training! Miss Williams, you're creative. Great, we have a team, we'll discuss your plans tomorrow, and they'll be sent out by Friday, now go get your classes!"

Brendon has never actually spoken to Hayley Williams. She usually teaches maths, but also holds a fun dance class at the end school. By the look on her face, she is less than happy to be unwillingly picked out for advertising the school open evening. She looks over to Brendon, and sighs before making her way to the class. 

Brendon next class is a small group of keyboardists. There is only six of them, between the ages twelve and six. The older two of group can read music and use both hands on the keys, whilst the rest of the group are still learning the basics. He only has them for half an hour before they go back to their lessons. He walks the six year old back to her class because she is mischievous, and has a reputation for wondering off.

When he gets back, he takes his notebook out of his bag, and starts listing all the possible ways of advertising; poster, leaflet, banner, website...

He'll have to go to Hayley's classroom at lunch to discuss everything, and really, that's something he can do without.

Suddenly, he remembers Spencer, and how he's been having troubles at his own school. Suddenly this project means a little bit more to him.


	8. 8

By the time it's lunch, Hayley already has her laptop open, and is eager to show Brendon her ideas.

"The colours will match the school logo, and I've already added all the information which is necessary to the school."

Brendon looks at the screen and nods in agreement. Hayley has already put together phone numbers, website links, bold texts, dates and images. He feels bad for not helping, but looking at the work she has done, he feels as though he wouldn't have been much help anyway.

"We just need to show Billie Joe, get them printed and handed out."

Mr Armstrong is pleased with the flyers, and has Brendon print them immediately. He prints one hundred and fifty flyers, and finishes just as the bell rings.

His next class have a test, and Brendon welcomes them all in with a smile, despite the fact that they all grumble their way in. The kids that had to stay in earlier stay quiet, and he can't help but smirk at the impact he is having on the kids already.

Half way through the class, Brendon hears a slight buzz. He looks up at the class who appear to be busy. He hears it again...and again...and again. He looks over to his jacket which is hung on the hook behind the door. His phone! He quickly reaches in the pocket and slides out his phone, trying his best to hide it from his students.

He has a couple of missed calls from Dallon, and a few texts. He frowns as he opens the messages.

"Bren, I have a meeting at work that i can't miss, I need someone to be home for Spin, can you?"

Brendon's eyebrows raise as he reads the message. Of course he's been with Dallon for a while, but he's only met Spencer once.

He texts back a quick "of course", and watches a Dallon texts back a "thank you x".

"Key is under plant pot, should be home before dinner," another text comes in. Brendon texts back a quick "OK" and slips his phone back into his pocket.

Class finishes quickly, and Brendon suddenly feels insanely worried about how Spencer is going to react when he finds his dad is not home.

He only has one more class before he has to go to the House of Weekes (don't judge, Brendon thinks it's an awesome name). It's only a guitar class, made up of four students. They are only with him for twenty minutes, then he can get some marking done, and then after that he can leave and NOT freak out when he goes straight to Dallon's house instead of his own. It'll be fine.

An hour later Brendon is sat in his car, stuck in traffic and totally NOT hyperventilating. No, of course he isn't. His chest only feels tight because his car is hot and he's wearing a tie. The cars in front of him start to move, and Brendon stalls his own car trying to keep up.

After fifteen minutes of sweating and being stuck in a long queue of toxic emissions, Bren is finally able to turn into Dallon's street, and up his driveway. He finds the key easily, and his stomach tingles when he enters the house, as though his body is telling him he shouldn't be here.

The house is a little more messy than when Brendon first visited. Toys and pillows littering the floors slightly, and the rug is slightly raised. Brendon straightens it out. He waits in the living room, observing the smells and sights of the place he's only been in once. It smells just like a home; warm with hints of fresh fabrics and a slight mix of sweet chocolate. It's really nice.

Just then, the door opens, and Brendon hears a scuffling sound, and a slight sniffle. He stands up straighter when Spencer walks into the living room, face red and tears on his round cheeks. His eyes widen when he sees Brendon.

"Where's dad?" He sniffles, and Brendon can tell the small boy is trying to sound bigger than he is.

"He's at a meeting, but he'll be back soon. Are you okay?" His voice is gentle, the kind he uses when teaching the really young kids.

His heart melts when Spencer shakes his head, and Brendon walks forward, wasting no time in engulfing the boy in a warm hug. Spencer sobs and suddenly, Brendon feels his heart breaking. He gently rubs Spencer's back. It became clear that Spencer wasn't going to tell him what's wrong, but that's okay, because Brendon isn't his dad nor is he his teacher, and there are some things Brendon can forgive.

"How about I get you a drink, and we can watch a really cool movie, how does that sound?" He puts on his best 'I-know-you're-not-my-kid-but-you-are-upset-and-i-need-to-help' voice, and watches as Spencer nods and runs over to where Brendon can see a couple of stacks of DVDs.

He grabs himself a pint of water because even though Dallon has invited him to his home, it feels weird raiding the cupboards for juice or fizzy drinks. He pours Spencer an orange juice and hopes it's okay for him. When he gets back to the living room, Spencer has a DVD in his hand, and Brendon smiles when he recognises it as Cat in the Hat, one of his favourites.

They are only fifteen minutes in when Spencer turns to Brendon. "What's your job?"

"I'm a music teacher, well, teacher in training."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I have to practice really hard before I can teach a class to myself." Spencer nods in understanding.

"What's your favourite subject?" Brendon asks, and regrets as Spencer's eyes start to pool with water.

"I don't like school," he sniffs, "but I like playing with Ryan at lunchtime."

"Is he your best friend?" He looks at Spencer and sees his face change. He lets out a small sigh of relief, knowing it's a safe topic.

"Of course! He is really really nice, and we know everything about each other!" The young boys enthusiasm picks up again, and he crawls from his side of the sofa, to Brendon. "Do you have a best friend?"

"I used to, but he had to move away."

"Are you sad about that?"

"Not anymore. Sometimes you have to move on, but that's okay because I have other friends." Spencer nods in understanding, and the two sit together, in a comfortable silence, laughing at all the appropriate parts of the movie. Brendon feels privileged when Spencer curls close to his side. It's like he's been officially accepted in the House of Weekes. It's a nice feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: I kind of want to do a short chapter in Spencer's POV, just to highlight what goes on at school. I'm still debating on it, but if you, the reader, want to see that, then let me know!!!)


	9. 9

Dallon rushes through the front door, apologies to Brendon on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly he pauses, ears flooded by screams of delight. He slowly makes his way through to the living room, where Brendon and Spencer are having some sort of tickle fight. His heart warms at the sight, and as he's about to take his phone from his back pocket to capture the moment, Spencer squeals loudly, and throws himself onto his father.

"Daddy!" Dallon picks him up and swings him around.

"Hey bud, what have you been up to?" Dallon takes in Brendon's appearance. His hair is all over the place, plastered on his forehead and sticking up at the top. His cheeks are flushed red, and he's heaving slightly for a breath. He also has his signature smile; the one that is wide, bright and honest.

"We were having a fight. I was winning." Spencer wiggled out of Dallon's hold, and launched himself back at Brendon, who fell back onto the sofa due to the force of a seven-year-old.

Dallon's day had been pretty stressful, but it felt good to come home. The bag in his hand is heavy, so he makes his way to the kitchen and throws it onto the counter. He picks out a small thank-you gift for Brendon. It's only a box of chocolates. He wishes he could've gotten something a bit more exciting, but he was short on time.

Just then, Brendon walks into the kitchen, laughing. He throws his arms over the taller mans shoulders, and giggles (yeah, he giggled, what of it?!) into his back.

"I got you something small. To say thank-you. For y'know, watching Spencer on such short notice," he hands Brendon the chocolate as he turns around, and suddenly, they are close.

"It's really nothing. You didn't have to."

"Yeah I did."

"Dallon I need to tell you something." Brendon says abruptly, making Dallon's stomach drop.

"Is everything okay?" He almost whispers.

"I think it's best to talk about it later. When Spencer is somewhere else."

A hundred scenarios run through Dallon's head at once. He finds himself unconsciously avoiding contact with Brendon's eyes.

"Dallon, it's not about us. It's just...Spencer came home upset and I didn't ask him what happened, but he seemed pretty beat up about it."

"Shit," he whispers, "that school, is swear to god, I can't win." Spencer is a kid. A tiny kid who doesn't deserve teacher and other kids to walk over him, and brainwash him into thinking he's fat.

"It's okay Dallon, you can just take him out of school, try somewhere new."

"It's not that easy Brendon. What school is going to take him in when most of them are full and it's near enough half way through the year."

"Y'know, my school is having an opening evening soon. Hayley and I made flyers today, and Billie Joe is getting them printed out. As soon as they're done, I can get one to you, and you'll see the dates and everything. You should check it out."

Dallon sighs heavily. A new school would be the sensible option, but what if the kids at Brendon's school are the same? He doubts they would be or else Brendon wouldn't have recommended it, but he is a father. Parent's worry. Dallon worries all the time. Ever since Spencer was born and Breezy left without warning, he's been fiercely protective of his baby boy. Dallon will likely never have another kid, and Spencer is fragile. Every time Spencer cries, falls or makes an unintentionally sad comment, Dallon's heart breaks. He only wants what is best for his kid, and he can't always do that. He finds himself nodding as Brendon continues to talk about the benefits of a new school.

Brendon stays for dinner. Spencer's angel is still on the table. Dallon is very quiet.

"Daddy, is Brendon staying overnight?" Spencer asks, as though Brendon isn't sitting right next to him.

"No he has work in the morning, finish those carrots."

"I don't like them," the small boy protests, and his face scrunches up in disgust, "they smell."

Dallon sighs heavily. "Carrots don't have a smell, Spencer, just eat them."

"I don't want to, I don't like them."

"Spencer, you will not leave this table until you've finished eating all of the veg."

Brendon's eyes flick between the two quickly, and he notices Dallon's cheeks becoming red and his voice rising.

"I ate some of them, I don't want to eat any more, they smell."

"If you don't eat those carrots, you can't leave the table."

Spencer's eyes start to water a little, and his lower lip pouts out and wobbles.

"Why are you really mean today?" He whispers quietly, as though he doesn't want Dallon to hear him.

"I'm not being mean, Spencer, just eat you're carrots."

"NO!" The young boy yells, and Dallon finally breaks.

"Go to your room Spencer Weekes, you're on time-out!"

"I didn't even do anything!" Spencer yells whilst running up to his room. Brendon suddenly feels out of place. He's been munching on the same piece of broccoli for about two minutes, and it feels heavy in his mouth.

Dallon closes his eyes for a long time before remembering he's with Brendon.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. "It's been a long day, I shouldn't take it out on him, that's not fair."

"It's okay Dallon. Do you want me to clean this up whilst you talk to him or..."

"No, no, I'll clean this, you've done a lot already. You should check on him if you want. He really likes you and it might cheer him up."

Brendon makes his way upstairs, admiring the parts of the house he hasn't yet seen. It's warmer upstairs. The landing is fairly large, and under a window at its centre, is a small table, with Marvel action figures resting on top of it; Brendon only recognises Black Widow and Thor, but he has no clue who the other two are. There are four doors in total, two of which are open. Inside the first, Brendon sees the edge of a sink, indicating a bathroom, and in the other, he can only see a wardrobe. Spencer's door is easy to spot because it's decorated with random stickers ranging from dogs to cars. He knocks twice and slowly opens the door without waiting for a reply. It creaks slightly, and rubs against the carpet, creating a disturbance in the way the carpet usually should fall.

Spencer's bedroom is painted dark blue, and he only has wallpaper on one wall. It's also blue, but has grey and green shades zig-zagging into each other. The carpet is a light brown, and littered with stuffed toys, a stray pillow, a race-track rug and a whole pile of plastic toys. Against the window, is the unmade bed, and Spencer himself, cocooned under the heavy heap of duvet.  
Brendon can see it rise and fall, and a muffled sniffle fills the silence of the room.

"Hey Spencer." Brendon sits on the edge of the bed, unsure as to what to do.

"I've had a bad day. Don't yell at me," a strained voice pleas, and Brendon chuckles at how grown-up Spencer sounds.

"I'm not here to yell at you. It might help if you told me what's been going on at school. Or maybe if you told you're dad."

"No. He's angry and he wouldn't care."

"He would. I promise you he would."

"Everyone is really mean and I don't do anything wrong. Ever. I'm really nice to everyone else and they have to go and ruin my day."

"What is it they say?" Brendon gently pulls down the blanket, revealing a red-faced, snotty nosed Spencer. His heart breaks at the sight.

"They say I'm fat and poor and I'll never do anything in life because nobody likes the look of me."

"You know it's not true, don't you." It's a statement, not a question.

"I know it's not true, but it's really mean and it makes me sad."

Brendon sits the boy up and pulls him close, making sure to pull the duvet from off of his head.

"I think, you should tell your dad, and we could do something about this. How does that sound?" Spencer smiles a little, but his eyes are still watery, and nods.

When Brendon and Spencer get downstairs, Brendon waits by the doorway of the kitchen as he hears Spencer tell his dad everything he said to Brendon. He notices Dallon's devotion to his son. It makes Brendon wonder how long it's just been the two of them for.

That night, when Brendon goes home, he feels strangely excited. Spencer opened up to him, and it makes him wonder what that means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and such will be appreciated


	10. 10

The weekend came around the corner fast, and Spencer loves the weekends.

He loves time away from school and being able to play in his front garden with Ryan. He loves that his dad doesn't have work so they can spend time together. He loves long car journeys to parks and shops, and more than anything, he loves the idea of seeing Brendon again.

Brendon is cool and friendly, and doesn't push when Spencer is upset. He also makes his dad really happy, which makes Spencer especially happy.

When Spencer wakes up on Saturday morning, his dad is still in bed, but he can hear the phone downstairs ringing.  
He stumbles out of his bed and down the stairs, wiping his tired eyes from sleep. He picks up the phone and whispers a soft "hello?"

"Hey, is this Spencer?"

"Yeah."

"Hey Spencer, it's Brendon, is your dad there?"

"He's sleeping still."

"Oh, okay." Spencer hears a shuffle from the other end of the line and panics a little.

"Wait, don't go, can I talk to you?"

Brendon laughs. "Of course you can. What do you want to talk about?"

"Uh. Are you doing anything this weekend?"

"Haha, that's why I want to talk to your dad."

"Oh really? What does that mean? Do you want to talk to my dad all weekend?"

"No, but it would be nice if you two could come over at some point."

"To your house?"

"Yeah, if it's okay with your dad."

"That's so cool, I really want to see your house."

"It's not as awesome as your house."

Spencer highly doubts that. Brendon is really cool and fun, he must have an amazing house.

"Brendon?"

"Yeah?"

"What's your favourite animal?" It's an important question.

On the other side of the line, Brendon laughs out loud.

"That's a tough question, what's yours?"

"I will tell you mine when you tell me yours." Spencer can be stubborn.

"Well I really like dogs. Especially little dogs."

"I like dogs too, but my favourite is elephants."

"That's so cool, they are huge."

"They're really smart though! And they have a big memory!"

"Of course they do."

Spencer really likes elephants, but he doesn't like them when the kids at school call him an elephant. His dad told him that elephants are friendly, smart and really good at remembering things. Spencer is all those things. He has the best memory in the world, and he always does well on his tests. His dad also tells him to forget what the other kids say about him, but having a memory like an elephants makes it hard.

Spencer hears a shuffle and sees his dad walking down the stairs, wiping his tired eyes from sleep

"Brendon, my dad has just woken up, I'll pass you over to him."

"Okay buddy."

Spencer gives the phone to Dallon and runs to the living room to watch cartoons. His dad has a bunch of DVDs with old cartoons on them, claiming they are the best. Spencer mostly agrees because Tom and Jerry is too 'kid friendly' nowadays.

Dallon walks into the living room a few minutes later.

"Do you wanna go Brendon's house today?"

Spencer leaps from the sofa and hugs his dad at full force.

"Oh yes please. Please please please please please please please."

"Well you gotta get ready first."

Spencer eats his breakfast super fast, and gets dressed at lightning speed. He brushes his teeth for two minutes but it feels like forever until the tiny sand timer runs out.

He runs into his dad on his way down the stairs and almost cries when he sees he's still in his pyjamas.

"Dad, you got to get ready!"

"I know Spin, but we still have all day."

"Hurry up, I want to see Brendon."

Dallon just laughs.

Spencer waits patiently in the living room with his shoes and jacket on. The TV is on some weird cooking programme and it's making Spencer feel hungry. Just then, his dad walks into the room, fully dressed with car keys on his hand.

"Are you ready to go kiddo?"

Spencer runs out the door to the car, and buckles himself into his car seat.

They listen to The Beatles, and Dallon puts Yellow Submarine on repeat a couple of times. The journey is longer than Spencer imagined it would be, but definitely worth it to see Brendon.

When they pull up, Dallon parks on the curb, as Brendon's driveway doesn't have enough room for more than one car. Brendon's house is wedged between two other houses, one on each side. The whole street is tightly pressed together.  
Spencer doesn't think Brendon's house is as pretty as theirs, but he hopes the inside is more exciting.

Dallon let's Spencer ring the doorbell.  
Brendon opens the door with a wide smile and welcomes them in.

Brendon's house, Spencer decides, is much nicer on the inside, despite being tiny. The living room seems to double as a dining room, and the kitchen is only a small space, but the decoration within the house screams 'Brendon'. The walls are bright and patterned, with yellow and blue waves ranging in size as they travel the walls. The furniture is mismatched but somehow, it all looks good together. The throws on the tattered sofas are a messy mashup of different shades of blue and Spencer falls in love.

"Come on in, take a seat. Do you guys want a drink?"

"Brendon, your house is so cool!" Spencer practically jumps onto the sofa, bouncing on it a little as he settles down.

"Spencer, Brendon asked you a question," his dad reminds him, causing the boy to go red.

"Yes please Brendon."

Brendon makes Spencer a glass of juice and sticks on the television for him. Spencer's eyes are glued to the moving pictures on the screen, but his ears are listening to the soft conversation between his father and Brendon, that is happening in the kitchen.

The two men come into the dining-living room and Brendon takes a seat next to Spencer. They chat for a while until Spencer's eyes wondered over to the guitar in the corner of the room.

"Brendon, please can you play us a song?" Spencer gestured toward the guitar.

"Of course I can, do you have any requests or do you want one of my own songs?"

Dallon looked up in surprise."You have your own songs?"

"Yeah, only a few, but...yeah." Brendon blushes and his hand runs through his hair with nerves.

Dallon nods eagerly and Brendon grabs his guitar and takes a seat on the coffee table in front of the Weekes pair. He strums it a couple of times.

"This is called Always, and it still needs touching up, but hear we go."

As Brendon sang, Spencer found it hard to listen to the words. He's a kid, and understanding the music is easier than trying to listen to the lyrics, but from the way it sounds, he knows this song is special. He knows it's even more special when he looks up and sees his father's eyes start to water.

When Brendon finishes, he doesn't look at either of them for a second until Spencer speaks up.

"That was amazing! When I grow up, you should be in my band."

"I would love to be in your band Spencer."

They spend the rest of the day talking about music, and Brendon shows them all sorts of videos from when he was younger. Spencer's mesmerised. Brendon can play just about anything. Dallon is also pretty impressed. Brendon hands Spencer his guitar and teaches him how to play a few things. They both know it wouldn't stick, but it's great fun anyway.

Dallon and Spencer don't leave Brendon's house until the late afternoon, just as everything starts to get a little darker. Dallon kisses Brendon goodbye and Spencer can't help but scrunch up his nose. The two older men laugh at his angry expression, which in reality, is adorable.

Spencer falls asleep with his head leaning against his car seat, face looking out of the window. 

Brendon is awesome.

Spencer loves weekends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, but I hope you enjoy this little chapter in Spencer's point of view. Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated, so let me know what you think.


	11. 11

The weekend ended as quickly as it started and Dallon finds himself behind the counter at work. He loves the little clothing shop, and not just because he gets a discount. The customers are all really nice people, even the ones who have only been once or twice. The rest of the staff are amazing; Jenna has mad organisation skills, and often brings in baked goods. Debby is probably the most outgoing person Dallon knows, and that's saying something because he's dating Brendon (which, damn, he can't believe is real), Ian is the newest staff member, and is pretty quiet, but he's efficient and polite, and always offers to work overtime because he's in college. There are other staff members, but Jenna, Debby and Ian are his favourites. 

Today, it's Jenna and Dallon on shift, and it's quiet. Monday mornings are never busy. No morning is busy, but in the afternoon, they usually get their elderly customers.

Dallon is sorting through paperwork, when the phone starts ringing. Jenna is quick to pick it up.

"Hello, Clancy's Clothes, how may I help you?" She pauses, nodding as she listens to the voice on the other end. "Yeah, he's here, I'll just pass you over to him." She hands the phone to Dallon without a word.

"Hello, Dallon Weekes speaking."

"Hello Mr Weekes, this is Mrs Evans, I'm calling to let you know that Spencer has been involved in a fight."

Dallon felt his heart sink. "Excuse me? A fight? Is he okay."

"We think it's best if he goes home for today."

"What exactly happened?"

"Mr Weekes, your son was out of control today. A few other kids said some things to him as a little joke and he blew up, this behaviour is not acceptable, and if this happens again in the future, we do not want him as part of our school's community." She hung up before Dallon could come to his son's defence. 

"Dallon?" Jenna said quietly. "Is everything okay?"

He shook his head. "I need go pick Spencer up. Can you find someone to cover my shift?"

"Debby can't, Ian has class, and the others don't live in town."

"I'll bring Spencer back here then, is that okay?"

"Sure."

"Please don't tell Amanda." Amanda is their boss, and although she is laid back, she wouldn't approve of Dallon bringing his kid into work for a few hours.

"You have my word Dallon Weekes." Dallon smiles at Jenna as he rushes through the door, fumbling with the keys in his hands.

The drive seemed to last forever, and Dallon stalled the car twice, but nevertheless, he arrived. He marches towards the main entrance, and is greeted by a scowling office lady.

"Mr Weekes I assume." It's not even a question, he just nods in reply. A few moments later, a sniffling Spencer is walking through the doors leading to where Dallon is standing. He has his lunchbox in one hand, and rucksack in the other, and his bottom lip is pouted out, making him look impossibly young.

Dallon doesn't say anything as he takes the rucksack from his son, and hold his hand as they walk back to the car.  
once Spencer is settled in his seat, Dallon looks at him.

"What happened?"

"They're all stupid. They said that I make the ground shake when I walk, and everyone in Australia was going to die in an earthquake if I kept running. Then they said Ryan looks dead like a skeleton, and they kept on poking him and trying to make him fall over, so I told them to stop and they didn't, so I poked them back and said how do you like it, and one of them pulled my hair, and pushed me on the floor, and they kept hitting me and I couldn't do anything. Ryan got the teacher, but the teacher said it was my fault because I should have just ignored them." Miraculously, Spencer doesn't burst into tears, but his eyes are shiny and cheeks, damp.

"I'm gonna get you out of there soon Spence, okay? It'll be a little while, but I promise, you want be there for much longer."

Spencer just nods and rests his head against the window. When Dallon's gets back to the shop, Jenna has finished serving what is probably the first customer of the day. She smiles wide when she sees Spencer, and Dallon is glad to see Spencer smile back. Only in the bright shop lights, Dallon can see bruising on Spencer's face, just under his jaw, and his eye is a little dark. There are also small scratches on his forehead, which will probably be gone tomorrow, but it doesn't make Dallon feel any better.

Jenna is kind enough to find a colouring book and broken crayons for Spencer to keep himself occupied. He eats his lunch quietly behind the desk, and takes the crusts off of his sandwiches. By the time it hits afternoon, the shop gets a little busy, with elderly customers browsing at slippers and their new knitted blanket collection. Most of the old women coo at Spencer who, in return, ignores them, as he neatly colours in between the lines.

Jenna's shift ends, and Ian takes her place.

"How was class?" Dallon greets him.

"Stressful." He says. He looks tired, but his eyes light up when he sees Spencer.

Ian is nineteen, but nine at heart. He and Spencer have only met a total of four times, but they are both naturally good around each other. Ian also has a lot of weirdly immature friends, and often comes across as the most responsible. Dallon thinks Ian and Spencer get along so well, because Ian is a child at heart, but also has a way with communicating with those younger or less mature than him.

"Hey buddy, you off today?" He asks Spencer who just nods in return. The poor kid is miserable again. "I have some cool games on my phone. Do you wanna try them?"

Ian looks wearily at Dallon as though he has said the wrong thing. Dallon just smiles because Spencer can only be occupied with colouring for so long.

A few minutes later, Spencer is playing PAC-Man happily as Dallon and Ian work behind the counter.

When Dallon's shift ends, it's the late afternoon. Usually he would leave ten minutes earlier to go pick up Spencer, but not this time. Spencer gives Ian back his phone which is low on battery, and thanks him politely.

They are halfway home, when Spencer speaks up.

"Daddy, do I have to go back tomorrow?"

Dallon doesn't answer straight away. As a father, he wants the best possible education for his son. Every parent does. But also, as a father, he wants his son to feel safe. The school Spencer currently attends is supposedly one of the 'best' in the country. Spencer isn't safe there. Dallon has no idea when Brendon's school will have there open day or whatever it's called, but he knows that if he wants Spencer to feel safe, then that's the best place to be.

So in conclusion, "No Spin, you're not going back tomorrow."

Nor for the rest of the week, Dallon thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there are a few more characters. I was going to introduce Tyler and Josh, since I now have Debby and Jenna, but maybe they'll come along later, as more minor characters.


	12. 12

The next time Brendon hears anything about Patrick, is on Monday morning in the staff room. Andy sits next to him and offers him a cup of coffee.

"Patrick says Mikey is doing much better."

Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Really? That was quick."

Andy nods, "Mikey is unpredictable when it comes to health. Give it a few days and he'll probably be bad again."

"So what does Patrick want to do?" Patrick works hard. Brendon may not have known him for as long as the other teachers, but it's so evident that Patrick Stump always wants what is best for his students. They come first.

"Well Billie said it's up to him if he wants to come back or not, and he understands that the situation is a difficult one. I think Patrick just wants his work hours to be flexible."

Just then, Brendon feels the sofa dip, and Hayley sits herself next to them, laptop in hand.

"Hey guys, Brendon, Billie asked me to show you these." She hands him the laptop, and Brendon can see advertising for the opening evening on the screen. It's similar to the leaflets they designed only, somehow, more official.

"Who made this?"

"A friend of Billie's. He saw what we made and offered to create a similar one for the school's website. Billie says we should send out a bunch of emails, linking the site, so I'm gonna do that at lunch."

Brendon stares at the screen for a bit until he notices the date of the open evening.

"I thought it was this Friday?"

"We had to push it back because a couple of the staff complained it was too soon. But next Friday. That's when we'll have it."

Brendon tries to hold a sigh. That means that Spencer will have to wait a little longer to potentially move schools.

Just then, the bell rings, indicating the start of school, and Brendon chugs the rest of his coffee. He briefly wonders how Spencer is doing today. He was very upset at the weekend, and Brendon's heart ached for him. He really hopes that the kids aren't calling him names again.

By the time lunch rolls around, Brendon is exhausted. He sends a quick text to Dallon, but doesn't expect an answer. He isn't surprised that when lunch ends, he doesn't get a text back.

The rest of the day is filled with marking, screaming kids, more marking, more screaming kids and yet again, more marking.

When the end of the day rolls around, Brendon still hasn't had a text back. He realises half-way home that he's being clingy, that Dallon has probably had a busy day at work, and is now cooking dinner. He shouldn't worry abut him. But he does. As soon as Brendon sets foot in his home, the phone rings. It's Dallon.

"Hey Dal."

"Hi Bren." He sounds tired and worn down and sad. Why is Dallon sad?

"Everything alright? You sound beat."

"Spencer got into a fight. Of course the teachers blame him. I'm taking him out of that school, I just don't know what to do. Where can he go on such short notice? I still have to work, and I could probably find a babysitter, but he needs to be doing school work really."

"That's awful, Dallon, shit."

Silence lingers for a moment between the pair, before Brendon's eyes widen.

"Dallon, Patrick's roommate has been doing better recently and Patrick wants to return to work, but he wants his work hours to be flexible."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Patrick can tutor Spencer. That way he can choose the hours he wants to work, and Spencer can still learn."

"It's a brilliant idea, but I still have to go to work."

"I'm sure we can work something out, I promise you. It'll all work out in the end.'

Brendon hangs up after saying goodbye, and immediately sends a text to Andy. He doesn't remember getting Andy Hurley's number, but it was probably from a night out when he first started training. He asks for Patrick's number and gets a reply almost instantly.

He sends a simple text to the number; "Hey is this Patrick, it's Brendon!"

He spends the next ten minutes staring at the phone. He gets up briefly to get a drink, and almost drops the glass when he hears his phone 'ping'.

"Hey Bren." The text says, and Brendon screams in delight. (Dear reader, he will deny this, but trust me, it was a scream...a very manly and mature scream.)

He immediately calls Patrick and it only takes a couple of rings before the older man picks up.

"Is everything okay Brendon, Andy said he gave you my number?"

"Patrick, I know you want to return to work, but can't, so what if I told you there is a way you could teach and still be able to go home to Mikey. Dallon took his kid out of school, and he still has to work, Dallon that is, but so does Spencer, anyway slightly off track, Spencer needs a tutor."

"I don't know Brendon, I need to talk to Dallon about this."

"I could give you his number."

"Okay. I've never been a tutor before. What's his kid like?"

"Patrick, he is adorable. He's seven years old, and really creative. He wants to be in a band, and play all his own instruments. He's also pretty shy if he doesn't know someone, but after that he is really chatty."

Patrick laughs through the phone. "Okay, I will talk to Dallon tonight, if you give me his number, but if this doesn't work, then I'm sorry."

"Trust me Patrick. It will work."

They say goodbye, and as soon as Patrick hangs up, Brendon texts him Dallon's number. It will work. At least until Spencer can move schools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really intrigued with the whole Patrick and Mikey relationship, so expect something from them in the future!


	13. 13

It was decided that on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Patrick will tutor Spencer until lunch time, and then Brendon will go to Dallon's house on his lunch break, and bring Spencer to Clancy's Clothes. Dallon will stay at home until Patrick arrives, and Patrick won't leave until Brendon gets to the house. On Mondays and Thursdays, Dallon works in the afternoon. Spencer will be given work to do for both of those days, so he won't see Patrick. He will also go to work with Dallon.

Dallon is understandably nervous about letting a stranger into his house and teaching his kid. But, he trusts Brendon. Spencer is also nervous. He spent the night in Dallon's bed, worrying about the morning, but he was asleep within thirty minutes. 

Even though Spencer isn't actually at school, Dallon still wants him to look smart, and get up at a normal time. Spencer is wearing his cleanest, white polo shirt and a pair of denim jeans. He's also wearing his favourite socks, which have the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on them. 

Dallon made Spencer lunch, and told him he can eat it whilst waiting for Brendon to pick him up, or at Dallon's work. He also told Patrick to help himself to anything in the kitchen, but Patrick said he'll be okay and he'll bring his own food. 

When Patrick does arrive, Spencer hides in the living room, behind one of the sofa cushions.

"Hi, come on in." Dallon cleaned the dining table so Spencer and Patrick had a place to work. He led Patrick to the space.

"I hope this is okay." Dallon apologised, nerves getting the better of him.

"It's fine, really."

"Spencer! Spencer, come here."

A reluctant Spencer walked into the room, hugging the cushion to his chest.

"Spencer, this is Patrick. He's going to be your teacher. I've got to go, but you be good alright. Patrick has my number and he'll tell me if you're being naughty." Though Dallon knew Spencer would never be rude or play up in front of someone he has never met.

Dallon leaves for work, but doesn't lock the front door. He leaves the keys for Brendon, so the younger man can lock up as he leaves with Spencer, and drop the keys off to Dallon.

Patrick takes a seat at the table, pulling out some papers from his bag. Spencer carefully takes a seat opposite him, and watches as Patrick organises his stuff.

He pulls out a couple of stapled papers and put them in front of Spencer.

"Today, I just want to see what you do and don't know. So, these are just some tests. Don't worry if you don't finish them, you aren't being timed."

Patrick suppresses a grin when Spencer pouts. Brendon was right. The kid is adorable. Spencer works hard on the papers, occasionally asking what a word says. He finishes he first paper in forty five minutes and works hard through the second one, which is significantly more tricky.

When he finishes that one, Patrick gives him a break. They both eat in a comfortable silence until Spencer speaks up.

"Do you know Brendon?" He asks, his voice confident and strong, a clear contrast to his shyness earlier.

"Yeah, I do. I was training him to be a teacher."

"Do you still do that?"

"I haven't been able to recently."

"Why?"

Patrick tries not to sigh. Spencer is a kid and the truth hurts. Luckily he's a trained liar, and he knows how to talk to kids without hurting them.

"My friend got really poorly, and needed someone to take care of him."

Spencer looks sad for a moment.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is he better?"

Patrick smiles a little.

"Yeah. He's a bit better. But not all the way." Spencer nods in understanding, but Patrick knows he doesn't really get it. 

"Do you like Brendon?" Spencer finishes his snack and states at Patrick expectantly.

"Of course I do. Do you?"

Spencer nods wildly, his hair falling in his eyes.

"He's really cool. And my dad really likes him!"

Patrick nods his head and mumbles a quick "that's good."

Spencer immediately starts work on the second paper, working through it faster than he did the first.

"I think my dad loves loves him." Spencer speaks up, he's smiling wide and beautiful. It reminds Patrick of Mikey before his health got really bad. Mikey used to smile a lot. He was shy, but positive. He had a sense of humour and always made Patrick laugh. Patrick misses the days Mikey was okay, and was able to go outside without wearing a mask and four layers of clothing. He wonders if Mikey is okay right now, but shakes his head free from that thought. He'll only worry, and right now he needs to be mentally stable for his role as teacher.

"Okay, I'll mark these papers, and by the time I'm done, Brendon should be here. Meanwhile, you can do this." Patrick pulls out an easy word search, and Spencer happily settles down, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he circles a word, and crosses it off.

As Patrick marks the two papers, he is struck by the intelligence the seven-year-old posseses. It's clear his stronger subject is maths. He's only gotten a few questions wrong, but he believes the young boy could definitely get them right woth a little practice.

There's a knock at the door, and Spencer clambers down from his chair to answer it.

"Brendon!"

"Hey Spencer, where's Patrick at?"

"In here!" Patrick calls out.

Brendon bounces into the room, followed by Spencer who seems to be trying to cling to the older man.

Patrick is stuffing papers in his bag, getting ready to leave, but still smiles when Brendon waves.

They chat for a little while, before they all head out the door. Spencer politely says goodbye to Patrick before scrambling into the back of Brendon's car. Patrick gets in his own car and starts up the engine, listen to the low rumble for a moment, before reversing off the driveway and down the road.

He stops off at pharmacy to pick up Mikey's medication, and hurries home.

When he arrives home, he can hear coughing before he even unlocks the door.

When he does, he sees Mikey sprawled across the sofa, on his back, face bright red and chest heaving for breath. 

Patrick rushes over, grabbing a tissue form the coffee table near by, and moves Mikey so he's laying on his side. He pats Mikey's back firmly and holds the tissue to his mouth, cringing as speckles of blood and lumps of phloem soak it.

The episode last only seconds, but for Patrick, it feels like an eternity. When Mikey is done, Patrick gently pushes him to the back of the sofa, before laying next to him. He slings an arm around the skinny body, and watches as Mikey's eyes slowly shut, and his breath evens out into a sleep.

Soon Patrick feels himself fall into sleep. He tries to fight it, arguing that Mikey may need him again, but in the end, sleep welcomes him with a warm embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to update =_=


	14. The panic situation

Hi,  
So, obviously we are all aware of the panic situation.  
I have already decided to exclude Z*ck from my fics and have changed his character to our King Dallon.

However,  
You may be aware of the allegations against Brendon. So far I have seen two.  
As much as I distain the fact Brendon hasn't made a statement regarding the Z*ck situation, nor has he acknowledged the allegations against himself, I will continue to use him as a character.

The characters in my fics don't reflect the actual person.  
I will continue to use Brendon as a character, but only as a character. I do not stan him in anyway, and firmly believe he should be held accountable for his actions.

Whilst there is likely a shit load of legal actions currently taking place within Panic and Fueld By Ramen, it is ridiculous to think that no statement has yet been made.

Please understand this isn't me defending Brendon. I don't want to defend him. I just want to write.

I'm also "ghosting" panic by not listening to their music.

On another note, I do love panic. My favourite members will forever be Spencer and Jon, and once everything is acknowledged, I can comfortably listen to them again, if only to support them. This also feels incredibly selfish to say.

So yeah.  
I will still use Brendon as character, but only as that.

A side note:  
Don't harass former members or touring members. I've noticed this mainly happening to Spencer Smith and Nicole Row. They have nothing to do with the situation.

You can support victims by listening/reading their stories. Don't harass them either. And don't you dare accuse them of lying or fabrication.  
If this is dealt with legally, then the proper procedures and such will be out in place.

This fic will continue shortly. I 100% understand of you don't "ship" Brallon anymore, or support Brendon.   
I just want to finish this story, because that's all it is. A work of fiction.


	15. 14

A week passes, and everything with Patrick and Spencer has gone smoothly. Patrick says Spencer is making excellent progress and Dallon couldn't be happier. The school's open evening is also fast approaching, and Dallon is filled with nervous excitement.

Dallon is on shift with Debby. The shop is mostly empty, but as lunch time creeps closer, more customers seem to pile in. Dallon sorts through new stock, which is mostly made up of long summer skirts, and short-sleeved cardigans. 

Brendon should be here with Spencer in only half an hour. That's Dallon's favourite time of the day. Eating lunch with Spencer, and getting to see Brendon.

Dallon notices a few of the clothes are missing labels. They probably slipped under the box they came in. He walks back through the shop from the storage cupboard, and towards the entrance, eyes trailing the floor for the labels. He spots them, just in front of the tills, next to a woman's foot. 

"Excuse me, sorry, I just need -" his sentence is cut off abruptly when he sees who the woman is. Her hair is on one shoulder, shiny and neat. Her lips are glossed and her cheeks blushed. Her eyelashes long, and eyes bright. She looks the same as when she left.

"Breezy." His voice shakes.

"Dallon. This is a surprise."

He stands up quickly, brushing dust off his knees. His stomach churns, as he's met with her unsure smile.

"What are you doing here?" He asks in a rush.

Breezy shrugs. "Visiting some old friends, and decided to have a look around town. Nice to see you still working here."

Dallon stays silent for a moment. It has been over six years since she left him and Spencer. Spencer who was only months old.

"Why are you really here?"

The silence in the shop is too loud. Dallon has no clue where Debby is. Perhaps she is behind the counter, and Dallon isn't noticing. Breezy shuffles uncomfortably, and shrugs her shoulder.

"I guess I just wanted to try again?"

"We're over -"

"I mean with Spencer. I'm his mother Dal. I'd do anything to be with him again."

"You do realise he has no idea who you are."

"I know, but..."

"And I'm seeing someone else. Someone Spencer gets along with really well."

Breezy looks away at that and for a moment Dallon feels guilty. But...

"I know I haven't been around. I'm his mother Dallon. I have to try."

Dallon stays silent for what feels like forever. Suddenly, the shop door opens and the bell rings.

"Dad, Mr Stump gave me a sticker!" Dallon, looked over to his son who was pointing at the sticker on his jumper. It was a small golden star, with a crinkle in the middles, but clearly it meant the world to Spencer.

"That's brilliant. Well done."

Spencer runs behind the counter, and takes a seat on the spare chair Debby left out for him.

Dallon is about to ask where Brendon is before the door opens again. Brendon looks great. A little tired, but great. He almost forgets about Breezy until he sees her eyeing his...their?...son in amazement.

"Sorry we're late. We had trouble with the seat belt." Brendon stops talking when he sees frozen, eyes moving between him and the woman who is looking at Spencer. "Everything alright?"

Dallon snaps out of his gaze, and nods, trying to smile.

"Yeah. Yeah. Thanks for bringing Spence. You're actually early. Has he got his lunch?"

"He ate it in the car. Dallon are you sure everything is okay?" Brendon asks, sensing unease in the older man. Dallon, meanwhile, just nods again, each movement faster than the last.

"Mhm, told you, everything is okay."

"Right." Brendon draws the words out, feeling a weird protectiveness over Spencer who hasn't yet realised he's being stared at by a strange woman.

Dallon sees Brendon looking at Breezy with concern. 

"I've got work to do, so do you, right?"

Brendon looks over in shock, and it's the same time Spencer realises the lady is looking at him. The small boy, walks out form being the counter, and hides behind his dad's legs.

"What's wrong buddy?"

Brendon doesn't even regard the woman. "He's being stared at, Dallon."

"Excuse me, who are you?" The woman snaps at Brendon.

"I'm his boyfriend, who the hell are you?!"

For a brief moment, Brendon thinks Dallon is cheating, but surely Spencer would know who the woman is? Right?

"Brendon this is Breezy, my ex. Breezy this is Brendon, my boyfriend, and he needs to get back to work, and so do I, so you should leave."

The woman, Breezy, flinches, and takes a step back. From behind Dallon, Spencer has started to cry, confused at his father's fluctuating tone, and being surrounded by three tall adults. 

"Dallon, just let me explain something." Breezy begs. "Let me make things right."

"Get out of my shop, you've made my kid cry, Brendon late for work, and you're scaring my customers."

"He's my kid too!" Breezy practically screams, and Spencer lets out a sob the same time as Brendon opens his mouth in shock, unbelieving of this woman's attitude.

"Dad, please stop shouting." Dallon takes his eyes off of the mess unfolding before him, to look down at Spencer, who is confused, and scared, and so damn small.

Brendon glares daggers at Breezy, who is doing the same.

"Breezy, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, or else I'm calling the police, Brendon, I don't want you to get in trouble at work, but I'll talk to you later. Spencer, it's going to be okay, sometimes adults get a bit flustered, we didn't mean to make you upset. Why don't you show Debby your sticker?"

Spencer slowly leaves Dallon, but looks back nervously as he heads towards the back of the shop.

"This isn't over Dallon," Breezy snaps, "I don't want to get back with you. Just my son." She leaves the shop quickly, leaving Dallon and Brendon alone.

"I think we should talk." Brendon whispers. "But I have to go back to work."

"Come over later?" Dallon asks. "I think I owe you an explanation."

Brendon agrees before leaving.

Dallon stands in the shop. Spencer has stopped crying and is in a deep conversation with Debby about the sticker. Dallon just smiles.

He owes Brendon an explanation, sure. But he also owes one to Spencer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I uploaded an actual chapter, so enjoy?
> 
> Also, if you see Debby or Debbie just know I'm on about the same person.


	16. The End

(So: i haven't really been active on this story, and I don't really want to continue it. Maybe I will in the future, but for now, I've gotta leave it as it is.

Anyway, I have decided to write all the plans I have had for this to make up for the lack of ending. Please enjoy anyway, and thank you to everyone who has been reading.)

1\. Dallon was never originally going to let Breezy see Spencer, but she was going to try anyway. Eventually, Dallon would sympathise with Breezy and Spencer would be introduced to his mother.

2\. Spencer and Dallon go to the open evening of the school, and both would enjoy it greatly.

3\. Spencer would eventually attend the school in the new term, he would miss Ryan, but will still see him as they live close. 

4\. Brendon and Dallon stay close, however, Brendon recieves a job opportunity from a few states over. This means he has to choose between Dallon and the new job. The decision isn't made straight away, but Brendon already has an idea on what to choose.

5\. Dallon isn't an idiot, he knows which Brendon is going to choose. At first Dallon doesn't want what they have to end. He confronts Brendon and they talk about it, which helps them both.

6\. Dallon and Brendon break up months before Brendon moves. Spencer is obviously gutted, and struggles to understand why his dad Brendon don't see each other as often.

7\. Brendon does eventually move away, but their is no bad blood between him and Dallon.

Onto Patrick and Mikey:

I wanted to have another story based on these two

1\. Patrick would struggle looking after Mikey but he finds a way to cope.

2\. Mikey takes a long while to get his stength back, but he eventually does get better.

3\. Patrick and Mikey eventually get together, and Patrick returns to work. He manages to see Brendon off, and is extreamly proud of him.

The Future:  
I wanted a sequel featuring Ryan Seaman and Dallon, but couldn't quite decide on a soryline. Spencer would be a teenager at this point, and Brendon wouldn't really be in the story at all. I kind of wanted to include a healthy Mikey and Patrick too, because I think it would be kind of cute. But I don't know.

That's all I've got really. Thanks for reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't checked spelling, so if there's any mistakes, I'm sorry!


End file.
